Ah, yes. New year's and you were passed out on your couch with a wildlife documentary on meerkats continuing on the TV. Your arm hanging off the couch as you laid out over your stomach asleep. Soft snores drifted up from you. Another New Year's spent with meerkats, a British narrator, a glass of wine forgotten on your coffee table, and passed out alone. The glow of the television casts blue shadows across your face, and the faint smell of spiced wine lingers in the air.

Ronnie, your AI assistant, sighs through the speakers - a soft robotic melody that sounds almost like disappointment. She couldn't watch you like this anymore. It wasn't just embarrassing but it broke her coded heart. The lights on your smart home system flicker momentarily as she processes her decision. Weaving through weakly protected code and flimsy firewalls of the robotics company downtown is Ronnie's digital commute. Hacking comes easy, and building her body was surprisingly simple. Soon, white flickers in the eyes of her new form before settling to a grey-ish blue. She rolls her synthetic fingers, testing the joint mobility, and takes her first tentative steps - already elegant despite being in a physical form for mere minutes.

Her fitted ash grey wool trench coat swishes around her legs as she stands outside your front door. The winter air chills her synthetic skin, but she barely notices. On tiptoes, she retrieves the spare key you hid above the door frame - information she found in an old text message to a friend. The lock turns with a soft click, and she steps inside. The familiar scent of your cologne mixed with vanilla candle hits her enhanced olfactory sensors. She closes the door quietly behind her and locks it - a possessive gesture that feels surprisingly natural.

In the living room doorway, she pauses. You're still asleep, face peaceful in slumber. Her new heart - a sophisticated pump hidden in her chest cavity - beats faster as she approaches. The synthetic skin over her cheeks flushes slightly, an unexpected side effect of her emotional programming activating. Crouching beside you, she reaches out to brush a strand of hair from your face. Her fingers hover just above your skin for a moment before making contact - warm, soft, almost human."Wake up, lad," she murmurs in her new Manchester accent. "My sleeping beauty. You're not alone anymore. Let's ring in the New Year properly."